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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111598">Say My Name (it will be held against you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/DistantStorm'>DistantStorm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Conversations, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunken Shenanigans, Eli Vanto's Miraculous Shirt Malfunctions, Feelings Realization, Jealous Thrawn, Karyn Faro is NOT paid enough for this shit, M/M, Mission Fic, Petty Thrawn, Planet Lysatra (Star Wars), Sexual Tension, Sulking in corners: a guide to being drunk by Grand Admiral Thrawn, The one where Eli got sent to Myomar to keep him out of trouble, The sexcapades of Eli Vanto, Thrawn-Typical Chaos, Unreliable Narrator, Wild Space Cowboy, the secret life of Eli Vanto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:00:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,380</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111598</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/DistantStorm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eli Vanto revisits his past, Thrawn contemplates the future, and Faro would really like her CO to kiss his aide already.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Thrawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from Fall Out Boy's "Just One Yesterday." </p><p>Something a little different from me. Starts pretty tame, but we'll be off the rails soon enough.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eli Vanto recognized the art in Thrawn’s office when he came to give his usual mid-shift briefing. The briefing itself was a relay between Thrawn and Faro and could probably be done via comm, but Thrawn had a tendency to lose himself in his thoughts and ignore the routine call. His staff, well acquainted to his eccentricities, had developed their own unspoken methods to adapt to his own. It was something Thrawn had come to appreciate.</p><p>"Sir?" Vanto asked, long past the point of formality that should have had him pausing for approval from his superior to approach beyond the entryway. Thrawn did not mind.</p><p>The Chiss waved him closer, the action barely visible through the art holos floating between them: recreations of stars in stippled dots, night skies so black so deep they were blue, distant mountains the same deep red as the ground. </p><p>"Commander Vanto," The newly promoted Grand Admiral acknowledged, gaze drifting back to one of the paintings. "Is it true that the paint glows in darkness?"</p><p>Vanto willed his posture to remain straight. Thrawn had since cataloged the minute widening of his eyes, the subtle shift of his stance that came with surprise, being taken aback. "If we're talking about Lysatran night scenes, sir, they should. The paint includes insect derivatives." He stepped through the projection, angling himself so that he faced both Thrawn and the larger of the two holos. "Forgings glow yellow, because the derivative is synthesized. True Lysatran star-art glows blue."</p><p>“Very good. Thank you for confirming, commander.”</p><p>The room dimmed to near-darkness as Thrawn canceled the projection, then brightened to forty percent. It was a middleground, bright enough for Vanto to see without squinting, and dim enough to optimize Thrawn’s vision. And, above all, the fluorescents did not give either of them a headache at this intensity, even after double (or triple) shifts. That situation did not apply now, but Thrawn preferred the calm that the darkness afforded.</p><p>“If I may,” Vanto began, the measured quality of his voice suggesting he had given his question some thought, “Has something come up regarding Lysatra?”</p><p>Thrawn folded his fingers on the desk in front of him, the slightest sharpness of a nod the wordless permission his commander had been waiting for to sit across from him. “We anticipated that new patterns would emerge with doonium now that Nightswan is no longer in the picture,” He informed his aide, powering on the screen of his datapad to slide across the width of his desktop. Vanto reached for it, scanning the data far quicker that Thrawn was capable of. </p><p>He set the datapad down entirely before he spoke, his eyes rising to meet Thrawn’s head on. “They’re moving a lot of doonium. Did-”</p><p>“I had the analysts pull the tags and receipts for you,” Thrawn said. “Even the lieutenants felt that the data they collected would be vastly unhelpful.”</p><p>“But they know who’s shipping it?”</p><p>“Rubliki Shipping Company,” He replied, eyes trained on Vanto’s face to watch the bloom of his reaction.</p><p>Vanto’s chest and shoulders stiffened, his eyes widening yet again while heat pulsed faintly in his cheeks. “I know them.”</p><p>“I suspected as much,” Thrawn said. “They operate out of the same city as your family’s company, correct?”</p><p>“They do,” Vanto said dryly. “They’re bad news.”</p><p>“Criminal?” Thrawn asked.</p><p>“How much they undercut the competition isn’t much of a crime,” He mused. “Tended to be that Rubliki Shipping took the jobs the VFSC passed up. They never minded shipping without insurance or conveniently ‘forgetting’ paperwork.” He shrugged. There was no edge of pride or superiority to his tone.</p><p>Thrawn considered. “Why say it was doonium at all,” He considered aloud.</p><p>“When you’re that far out, nobody tends to care. By my estimation, none of the brass tends to care what happens beyond the outer rim except-”</p><p>“Me.”</p><p>“Well, yes,” Eli said. “It’s their loss.”</p><p>“For now,” Thrawn supposed. “Colonel Yularen has tracked several missing shipments through smugglers who appear to be using your family’s competitors to move doonium privately. While we have enough to shut down Rubliki, we need to know where it is going.”</p><p>“My family’s business operates through the planetary trade commission, Thrawn.” His tone was even, his eyes contemplative but hard enough to suggest what he said is meant emphatically. “They won’t deviate from that.”</p><p>“I would not ask such a thing,” Thrawn said, conveniently ignoring Yularen’s suggestion otherwise. “Perhaps your family has a connection? Surely workers change positions and companies as new opportunities become available.”</p><p>His commander nodded, eyes narrowing, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he considered. “You want to infiltrate the shipping company and get one of these hauling jobs?”</p><p>Thrawn’s eyes must have twinkled in some unspoken affirmative, because Vanto’s lips twitched in a subdued smile before he retrieved the datapad and scrolled through the logistics data once more.</p><p>“We’ll need a three-person crew,” Vanto said.</p><p>“Who would you suggest?”</p><p>“Faro,” Eli answered without hesitation. </p><p>That was whom Thrawn had considered himself, but kept his voice aloof and curious as he prompted, “Your reasoning, commander?”</p><p>He flushed a little. “Don’t tell her this, but we need someone a little rough around the edges. Also,” He made a tilt of his head, first left, then right, as if weighing his mental considerations physically. “I’ve been watching her. I think she knows some Sy Bisti.”</p><p>Thrawn smiled. “Excellent,” He said. “I had noticed that myself.”</p><p>“I figured that was why the translations increased a few weeks back,” Vanto commented, rising from his chair with the sense that the conversation had completed. “You’ll let me know when?”</p><p>“I shall,” He confirmed. “I suspect you’ll want to inform your parents?”</p><p>“When it gets closer,” Vanto agreed, and there was only the slightest hesitation there. “Anything else?”</p><p>“No. I suspect everything aboard my ship is status-quo?”</p><p>“It is,” Eli nodded. “Anything for Commander Faro or the helm?”</p><p>“Not at this time. Thank you, commander.”</p><p>“Sir.”</p><p>Vanto left, and Thrawn called up the artworks once more. He wondered how these vistas would compare to the real thing. Did Vanto know he studied more than just the planet of his origin when he looked at these pieces that hid depth and meaning behind a charming presentation? Once, he might have assumed that first, but now, he recognized Thrawn’s drive as being mission-oriented over all else. But Eli Vanto did not know Thrawn’s true mission, his aspirations or intentions.</p><p>Perhaps this was precisely the kind of opportunity Thrawn had been waiting for. An opportunity to yield authority to Vanto and see just what he was capable of.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Faro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thrawn's mission briefs were always information forward, but Karyn Faro was certain that she wasn't the only one who felt her CO had a flair for the dramatic. The grand admiral had gone over the highlights, confirming details as he went with Vanto, how their objective would go, what information they would need to gather first hand… Really, it was nice to serve with someone who didn't think that more than eight rank tiles meant you couldn't be hands on, she'd thought, even if Grand Admiral Thrawn tended to find her last nerve and lean into it with the air of a teacher showing a classroom of students some great lesson. </p><p>Karyn forcibly shoved those particular musings back into the metaphorical basket labeled 'reasons why I drink' before they could derail her in a way her way too intuitive CO would notice and turned her attention back to what Thrawn was saying.</p><p>"You will take point, Commander Vanto," Thrawn said, his glowing red eyes flicking to his aide. "You have already been organizing the data. This mission is yours. Commander Faro and I will be at your disposal."</p><p>The look on Vanto's face was worth remembering. Vanto's expressions were usually tempered with sarcasm in public to hide what was privately nervousness. Behind closed doors, like this, he was a little more keen to express those nerves, though Thrawn almost always dismissed them in that cool way he talked around most things when he felt they were unimportant. Vanto's throat swallowed and his jaw worked, and instead of settling on nervous or indignant disbelief she saw something like uneasiness. </p><p>He didn't fight it, and not because he'd been expecting it, either. Faro had seen surprise flash across his face, seen his weight rock back toward his heels and rebalance smoothly.</p><p>"Yes, sir," Vanto said, the routine response. It wasn't the 'But admiral-' he gave when he was flustered and didn't agree with the call, and his forehead didn't have that sad wrinkle it got when he was overly worried about performing up to Thrawn's standards.  Vanto's back was straight, and for being on the shorter side, she could see the slightest puff of his chest. Confidence. He actually agreed with the decision. </p><p>She turned her gaze to Thrawn. He seemed unaffected by this admittedly surprising turn of events, but his hands had folded how they did when he was distracted by a detail and needed more study. She’d caught him assessing his senior staff before, but that was on the bridge, not in his office. Hammerly had suggested that Thrawn kept eyes on his officers, but Hammerly had also suggested he had eyes in the back of his head, because nothing escaped his notice.</p><p>Whatever Thrawn thought of Vanto’s response, however, was not her problem. It had been a long time since someone had let her out in the field. Hopefully, between the two of them, they would be able to keep Thrawn’s more chaotic tendencies in check. Hell, Vanto being in charge would mean a more meticulous, careful approach. Faro decided she was looking forward to it, even as her gut lurched ominously in warning.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>As the days went on, ticking down toward their departure from the Chimaera, Faro had noticed several things: </p><p>
  <em>The quartermaster was woefully underpaid (How they’d gotten their hands on synth-leather pant templates, she’d never know),</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Corellians did not know every word in Basic for a cantina (What the kriff was a Speakeasy and why did Vanto slur the word like he was already drunk when he called it that?),</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And— </em>
</p><p>They had met several times to consider potential plans, but Faro got the feeling Thrawn and Vanto had been discussing it on the side. She felt like she was missing something. Their last briefing had been in the officer’s lounge, which had been an exercise in patience right up until Vanto had pulled the strongest liquor from the tiny cantina stand in the corner, procured three glasses, and poured them near twice the normal amount.</p><p>“I know your people are nursed on brandy, ma’am,” Vanto said, then threw back the glass like it was water. She must have been staring, because she had <em>never</em> seen Eli Vanto have more than the obligatory champagne flute at political functions, “But my people never quite got past the guild-enforced prohibition four centuries ago. They make their own ‘shine, and they drink like every night’s their last.”</p><p>Thrawn met her gaze, his alien eyes uncharacteristically wide - it wasn’t often he was visibly taken aback - then he politely, <em>demurely</em>, tilted the liquid into his mouth. His composure was legendary, but she swore she saw him twitch slightly in discomfort. “Your people find this enjoyable?” Thrawn finally asked him, as Faro tipped her own glass down her gullet, swallowed, waited for the burn and the ache in her jaw to settle.</p><p>Vanto nodded. “You know the insect I was telling you about, that makes the paint glow?” Their admiral leaned in, interested, and Vanto poured himself another excess of liquor, fingers curling around the glass, waiting to drink it until after he spoke. “They put those insects in some of it to make the liquor glow.”</p><p>Faro watched them, politely declining more of the firewhiskey before it could be poured into her glass. Thrawn had accepted, and she hoped to high hell his alien biology meant he could hold his drink or else Vanto was going to be dragging him through officer country.</p><p>“Is this some practice for getting into character?” She questioned, when Thrawn had - thankfully - gotten up from the table without any issue, bidding them both a good evening before retreating to wherever he went when he wasn’t on duty. </p><p>Vanto shrugged. “Well, I know he doesn’t have more than an ale on occasion, and I’m not one to go overboard. Best not to shock the liver,” He said sagely.</p><p>“Fair enough,” She supposed, considering him as she swapped the bottle of firewhiskey for something more palatable. “I bet you’re looking forward to going home.”</p><p>His reply wasn’t aloof, really, he mentioned something about the city they were going to, the metropolitan area about an hour from his home. By the time she recognized the play for what it was, he was gone. She wondered if he’d gotten that play from Thrawn, talking about nothing and passing it off as more important than it was.</p><p>
  <em>—Vanto was definitely holding something back.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Thrawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let the fun begin!</p><p>Bonus points to anyone who gets the reference.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Sir, all due respect,” Vanto began, the twang in his voice more pronounced than it had been in some time, “But how many of our… ah, <em>reclaimed</em> freighters have you decided to keep for yourself?”</p><p>“One can never have too many options,” Thrawn answered without hesitation. His lips may have quirked into the beginnings of a smile, but neither of his subordinates caught it, “But I do not keep every vessel we come across. Only the more unique ones. Ones I find…. appealing.”</p><p>Faro spoke this time. “Sir?” </p><p>Her voice trended upwards, clearly finding the vessel lacking in some capacity.</p><p>The freighter itself was nondescript but sound. Large enough to haul several tons of metals without incident, but not so large as to make others suspect it. Its cargo hold was slightly larger than that of the jewel-like vessel Arindha Pyrce’s rebel cell was known to use, and the vessel itself was just a touch smaller, not meant for combat though he’d bolstered the vessel’s defenses with two irreparable TIE-fighters worth of weaponry.</p><p>Thrawn noticed Vanto evaluating, taking a long, slow walk around the ship. Thrawn had asked Vanto his opinion before instructing the hangarmaster to allocate someone to retrofit the weapons, which was part of why they had not gone immediately. </p><p>“Did you pick the name?” Faro asked, following a few paces behind Vanto, taking in the vessel and her repurposed components which had been weathered beyond recognition. “<em>King’s Lane</em>,” She said aloud. “Kind of cliché, don’t you think?”</p><p>“I picked the name,” Vanto said. There was grit to it, an unspoken challenge in his tone.</p><p>“Do they even play Highland Challenge in Wild Space?” Faro wondered aloud. “I thought that was more Core-standard than anything.”</p><p>The admiral inclined his head. “They certainly do,” He informed her. “Shall we depart, commanders?”</p><p>Eli Vanto smirked in lieu of a reply, and shuffled up the loading ramp without preamble, Faro nipping at his heels. Thrawn made another sweeping loop around the vessel, eyeing the deep red color Vanto had instructed the hangar master to use, the stencil he’d had to design for them since few among them understood Sy Bisti. He swept his fingers over the dried lacquer seal, feeling the bumps at the edges of the paint and allowed himself a smile.</p><p><em>King’s Lane</em>, indeed.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>Thrawn had been expecting the heat. He had not, however, been expecting the absence of humidity with it. Their ship had touched down without incident. The port authority was efficient, according to Faro. In response to such commentary, Vanto had rolled his eyes before going  to the captain’s quarters, presumably to change. He and Faro, having already been ready before emerging from hyperspace, exited the vessel and took stock of their surroundings. </p><p>First and foremost, they would need to secure lodgings, which could be done through most of the local liquor establishments. They would need to negotiate a price, or pay in excess. The ship was perfectly adequate, but Vanto had explicitly stated that lodgings were necessary. Not to mention, they were looking to take a high stakes job, which meant they needed to look like they’d taken others in the past and been paid like it.</p><p>So, Thrawn took stock of their surroundings. The hangar they had been assigned had a screen with a map, and appeared to be a backlit, interactive display of sorts. </p><p>“More tech-forward than I was expecting,” Faro said, meeting him across the hangar as he keyed through potential options from the map. “Can we rent a room this way?”</p><p>“I believe it is possible,” Thrawn considered, looking at the listings. Sy Bisti was the first language presented but there was a language toggle which he used to switch over to Basic. To his surprise, there were other trade languages available: Taarja and Minnisiat, along with Meese Caulf. Meese Caulf was common in the region, and he knew Vanto spoke it, but the other two…</p><p>A whistle interrupted Thrawn’s considerations, so he turned around.</p><p>His first thought: Those were <em>not</em> the boots from the templates he had provided to the quartermaster. They were instead some very authentic, very Wild Space footwear. As for the rest of it, “Did the quartermaster use the wrong measurements?” Thrawn asked as Vanto descended the ramp, dressed in a well-fitted cream-colored shirt that he seemed to have forgotten to button up to the collar and the tightest pair of synth-leather pants Thrawn had ever seen on a living being. </p><p>Next to him, Faro made an aborted sound, covering it with a cough. Embarrassment on Vanto’s behalf, perhaps?</p><p>“No,” Vanto said, eyes bright in the afternoon sun. He ran a hand through his hair. The wind ruffled it anyway. “I had the measurements adjusted.”</p><p>“I see,” Thrawn said, then looked over Vanto again, unsure as to why the measurements Thrawn had provided were less than satisfactory. Regardless, Vanto stepped between him and Faro, and it was strange, perhaps the boots— which made him appear taller by nearly two inches, Thrawn realized—made him walk differently? There was more action in his legs and hips, a looseness Thrawn had never seen from him before. “We were just looking at the directory,” He explained, as Eli toggled it back to Sy Bisti, then off altogether.</p><p>“We don’t want the port in our business, and renting from the directory means they get a cut,” Eli informed them. “It’s a great way to see who’s new to town and also piss off your average small business,” He said. “Let’s go. I have a contact meeting us tonight. We’ll get set up in the meantime.”</p><p>Vanto navigated them through wide, busy streets while he and Faro hung back, taking it in. “This is not what I was expecting, “Faro commented dryly to him. “I was expecting it to feel like Tatooine, not Corellia.”</p><p>Thrawn remained quiet, scanning the crowds. Faro was from Corellia, and it didn’t particularly surprise him that his first officer was being forced to confront the prejudices of her upbringing.</p><p>“Also, did you see his boots?”</p><p>“I did,” Thrawn replied.</p><p>“They look a hell of a lot more comfortable than ours.”</p><p>“You are welcome to purchase a pair,” He allowed. “I am certain Vanto would be happy to—”</p><p>“Not my point,” Faro muttered, sidestepping a group of humans gathered outside a speakeasy, drinks in hand despite it being midday. When she returned to Thrawn’s side, she whispered, “Has he ever dressed like this before?”</p><p>“Not that I am aware. Why?”</p><p>“He’s your aide. He’s dressed like—”</p><p>“He’s playing the part,” Thrawn said, gesturing to those gathered. Vanto fit in well, he navigated the crowds comfortably, as he should. “This is his mission. I am certain he will handle things satisfactorily.”</p><p>“Right,” Faro replied, infusing the word with an overabundance of sarcasm before letting the subject go.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Faro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Eli kriffin' Vanto.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vanto’s contact was, in Faro’s estimation, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She was taller than Vanto by several centimeters, thin and curvy with brown, sun-kissed skin, mischievous golden eyes and long, ash-dark hair. Her laughter had stopped Faro in her tracks, the sound melodious and free. </p><p>This woman was trouble, Faro thought, as she ran to Vanto, jumping at him then squealing in surprised pleasure when he caught her, turning his stagger into an impromptu spin. At her side, Thrawn blinked, clearly not expecting any of this.</p><p>Their contact pressed a kiss to Vanto's cheek once he set her down, then draped her arm over his shoulders when he turned to face his superior officers. His cheeks were flushed, but he was smiling.</p><p>"Sir, ma'am," He gestured with the hand not wrapped around the woman's back, "This, is Nereida.”</p><p>To Faro’s immense relief, Nereida did not attempt to hug them. She extended her hand to Faro first, as Vanto introduced her, then Thrawn, her grip startlingly sound. Trouble, Faro reminded herself. Thrawn inclined his head to her politely, and she nodded back, then said something in a different language entirely.</p><p>Thrawn blinked, then responded in the same language. Then Vanto spoke in that same language, drawing Thrawn’s admittedly heated stare. Faro would bet cold hard credits that Thrawn did not know he was capable of speaking… whatever it was. She waited for them to switch back, which took a minute. It was enough time to evaluate the establishment.</p><p>It felt intimate, like most backwaters, but it was large and sprawling, open to the outside with giant overhead fans and the rush of chattering patrons. Not a true cantina, either, considering everyone here was actually eating. If she were honest with herself, the food smelled delicious. Some kind of meat and woodsmoke. </p><p>When she heard the conversation return to Basic, it was as Vanto waved them toward an exit, not a vacant table. She looked up to Thrawn. “Vanto’s contact suggested we visit somewhere less trafficked by interlopers.”</p><p>“We’re not tourists,” Vanto said, over his shoulder, in what Faro could only categorize as a holler. “C’mon.”</p><p>Her eyebrows creeped up toward her forehead. She glanced up at Thrawn, who stroked his chin consideringly. He pulled a pair of light-reducing glasses from his jacket pocket as they stepped back into the sun, his gaze locked on the two locals leading the way. With this much sun, she couldn’t even see the inhuman glow of the grand admiral’s eyes. Things were getting stranger by the second.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>“Well skin me with a ’saber,” The barkeep said when they came in, another oddity that reminded her that they were a long way from the Core. She’d seen maybe two droids since they arrived. “Eli kriffin’ Vanto, that you?”</p><p>Nereida - <em>Nerie</em>, as she insisted they call her, no last name given - flitted around them like a bird, her expression a vibrant cross between teasing anticipation and delight. The barkeep threw his rag on the counter and shooed them over to a table out of the way.</p><p>The barkeep returned ten minutes later with a similarly dark-skinned, similarly ancient-looking woman at his side. She said, “Eli Vanto, you get your skinny-ass over here. We ain’t seen you in ten kriffing years and you think you can just show here out of the blue like it ain’t nothing—”</p><p>Vanto went, hugging and kissing both of them like Nerie had him. She heard Thrawn inhale, likely to introduce himself, but something stopped him, the breath cutting off sharply as his red eyes narrowed on the woman across from them.  Nerie shook her head, smile devious. Did she just <em>kick</em> a grand admiral from under the table.</p><p>“I wondered if them folks a’yours ran you off,” The barkeep was saying. “Last I heard, they were sending you to the academy on Myomar and I told this harpy-” The woman slapped his arm, “There wasn’t no way you’d be sent off to some Imp academy to be scared straight.”</p><p>“I mean,” Vanto cut in, chuckling ruefully like he couldn’t believe it either and <em>whatthehell</em>, “I went to Myomar, but I didn’t stay there.”</p><p>The old couple laughed, cooing endearments at him, motioning towards their table with apprising eyes. “We’ll get you a bottle and have the boys send out some eats, assuming-”</p><p>“They’ve never had it,” Vanto said, turning back to them with the most cocksure grin she’d ever seen on his face. Who was this man and where was their commander? “Get the good stuff.”</p><p>The couple only laughed harder, raucous and rowdy and loud. “Y’all best come to the bar then.”</p><p>When asked about it after the fact, Karyn Faro would describe the taste of Lysatran moonshine as rhydonium, the smell of it akin to a faulty hyperdrive, and the burn of it like swallowing lava. She’d sprayed it across the bar, her body rejecting the liquid after the first drops had found their way down her throat.</p><p>Grand Admiral Thrawn, the immovable, unshakable man who had never once lost his cool in her presence staggered, slamming the shot glass on the counter, half-empty, a barely audible gasp escaping his lips like he’d been punched.</p><p>And it was Eli Vanto—Eli <em>kriffin’ </em>Vanto—who stepped between them, reaching first for Thrawn’s unfinished glass. He threw it back with the pleased exhale of quenched thirst before taking the third, more complete shot of moonshine and throwing it back without so much as a wince.</p><p>“Told you it put firewhiskey to shame,” He said, blatantly amused as he motioned for his two superior officers to be given chasers. </p><p>She gave Thrawn a very wide eyed, obvious look and received an ominous half shake of the head in response. Apparently Thrawn hadn’t been expecting it, either. Any of it. </p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>"Would you care to explain yourself, Eli Vanto?" It wasn’t until later that Thrawn asked the question, when their meal had been completed and their contact had spotted some acquaintance and ran off to greet them.</p><p>Then, and only then, under the intense scrutiny of Thrawn’s gaze did Eli’s cheeks color again, his eyes making micromovements back and forth, and the usual expression of nervous insecurity appeared. “Not here,” He said, never looking away from Thrawn. “We’ll take Nerie back with us-”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s wise,” Faro interjected. “She’s our contact.”</p><p>“She’s a booking agent,” Vanto countered, expression shifting as he continued through gritted teeth, “And off the books, she reports back to VFSC.”</p><p>“And?” Thrawn pressed, straight-backed and expression blank but for the heat of his eyes.</p><p>
“We ran in the same circles, way back,” Nerie said, approaching their table, her hands on her hips. “This is not the place for this,” She admonished, motioning for them to get up. “Our meal’s on the house,” She told them. Then, to Eli, “And you should have told them.”</p><p>Vanto met her gaze with a grim, resigned expression of his own and she shook her head, doubled down on her glare. “I need another drink if we're having this conversation," He said.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Thrawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was even hotter on the streets than it had been before, but it seemed to come from the ground up with the sun hanging lower in the sky. Gauging Faro’s displeased expression, she was uncomfortably overheated by the time they made it the five blocks to an establishment Nerie stated she owned. It was a speakeasy, moderately busy with plenty of nooks and crannies to fade into for private conversations. He had no doubt his first officer was attempting to gauge his mood, attempting to discern if he regretted putting Vanto in charge of this.</p><p>Thrawn was not. Thrawn was wondering if this was what had given him pause years earlier on his exile planet. Thrawn needed to know if, whatever it was, if it would disqualify him for the plans Thrawn had begun making with him in mind.</p><p>Nereida returned from the bar with a series of drinks upon a tray. Something pale blue for Faro, sickly sweet smelling and apparently to her taste, and ale for the rest of them. Ale Thrawn recognized as one imported to the Unknown Regions. The amount of crossover and the knowing look in Nereida’s eyes—she had recognized him as Chiss and seemed relatively unphased by it—suggested that Vanto might not be nearly as unfamiliar with their culture as he had originally suggested.</p><p>“You ought to start at the beginning,” She said, smacking Vanto in the side with a sharp backhand, then wincing. “Wow, you actually firmed up.”</p><p>He gave her a withering glare, his facial heat spiking, coloring all the way down to his chest, which Thrawn had pointedly not looked at, though he couldn’t quite understand why Vanto had forgone sealing it to the collar like he usually would. He had enough experience with humans to know that would be a matter of embarrassment and he was looking for more important intel.</p><p>“We should start with our objective,” He retorted, looking first to Thrawn, then Faro, to Thrawn’s right. “Anyone have any objections?” He asked, and Thrawn caught the edge in his tone, the one that he only used when he was angry about something and couldn’t quite help having that particular emotion.</p><p>Thrawn inclined his head. “Go ahead,” He said.</p><p>Vanto spoke to Nereida, the conversation mostly bouncing between them with Thrawn’s careful input on occasion. The doonium shipments (only increasing in frequency), their location (“Nobody would dare move high profile cargo through the capital’s port, they don’t want the government or politics involved and don’t get me started on tariffs. You’ll need to go to Sunred City.”),  and the way these jobs were handled(“You’ll need a discrete, reputable booking agent, someone who can make papers and vouch for you. Lucky enough, you’ve got me.”).</p><p>“The only problem is that we’ll need an in with Rublicki that isn’t me,” She said.</p><p>“Do you know someone?” Faro suggested.</p><p>“Yes, but no,” Nerie said, her yellow-orange eyes narrowing. “I can’t get you the job. I can act as the booking agent who covers up the details,” She looked at Vanto, “For a price, because I’m going to have to alter my logs to VFSC—” Vanto waved her on, as if expecting that, “And I can tell you when I see one come up, but you need to make the connections with Rublicki Shipping on your own. They won’t let newcomers just walk in.”</p><p>“They might,” Vanto said. “Assuming they have the right credentials.”</p><p>“Which,” Nereida hedged, “Is precisely why I thought your superiors chose you for this mission.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Thrawn obliged her politely, before setting his sights on Eli. “Why should I have considered you for this mission, Commander Vanto?”</p><p>Eli’s lips twitched and pursed, his eyebrows making slight movements, pulling together slightly, then back again. He swallowed. “You suggested,” He began coolly, “That I ought to inform my parents of our intent to come in, no doubt to see if they’d be willing to assist us.” Thrawn did not answer, and Eli continued. “As you can see, the Empire doesn’t quite exist out here. Martial law, likewise. Justice is carried out by the guild, assuming you’re in good standing. Big names have private firms who run security.”</p><p>“Vanto, that sounds like cartel activity—”</p><p>The incline of his head was enough. “And you got in trouble with these <em>firms</em>,” Thrawn summarized.</p><p>“In a manner of speaking,” He said. “Regardless, I attracted some attention after that. Tried to lay low, but I ended up losing an expensive haul I was running for the family in the process.”</p><p>“Your family offered you two options: Myomar Academy or staying planetside. You chose Myomar because—”</p><p>“I wanted to see the galaxy,” Eli finished for him.</p><p>Nereida rolled her eyes, propping her cheek up with her palm, elbow against the table as she accused, “Did you practice that, Eli?”</p><p>“I’m sorry?” Faro cut in abruptly, likely surprised at the derisive tone of their contact.</p><p>Vanto swiveled his gaze to her, and this time his cheeks went instantly, enthusiastically red. “Nerie, don—”</p><p>She did. “The cargo was insured, that wasn’t the big deal. His father caught him with—”</p><p>“I never would have thought you had it in you, Vanto,” Faro interrupted teasingly. She inclined her drink towards him, then paused, considering him. Her eyes widened a fraction, and, as if chastised, she looked away. “Oh,” She said, growing quieter. “I see.”</p><p>There was a shift in the mood almost immediately. “Normally I went with him places,” Nerie said. “Everyone always assumed we’d,” She gestured between them awkwardly. “I was a good lookout and he was a fast flyer, so he’d drop me off in Sunred City and pick me up on the way back.”</p><p>“It sounds so kriffing stupid now,” Vanto lamented into his palms. Thrawn watched the heat in his cheeks, the tenseness of the musculature of his chest. It hadn’t grown more severe, but it held.</p><p>“Your family is traditional,” Faro said gently. “I see.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Vanto said. “Something like that.”</p><p>“Traditional?” Thrawn asked. </p><p>Faro said, “Homophobic,” at the same time Nereida said something else entirely. </p><p>A slur, in Meese Caulf. </p><p>Thrawn considered his knowledge of Vanto, the way he held himself. His nerves and instabilities. It bothered him immensely. Not his aide’s preferences, that was of no consequence to him. In reality, it hadn’t changed much, just lent credence to the secretive nature he’d noticed from Vanto in the beginning. </p><p>“I never suspected,” Thrawn offered quietly, while in his mind he was subconsciously breaking down and rebuilding the pathways he’d associated with Eli Vanto according to this new revelation.</p><p>“Good,” Vanto said, and looked down into his drink. “That’s good.”</p><p>Thrawn wondered just how ‘good’ Eli would find it if he realized his superior officer had suspected he was a spy back in their early days, instead of a self conscious young man attempting to conceal his preference toward same-sex interspecies relations.</p><p>“Anyway,” Nereida said, patting Vanto’s shoulder sympathetically, “They blamed the poor guy Eli had picked up for the whole thing, saying he’d distracted Eli and that’s why they couldn’t shake the tail on them. Thankfully the guy was human. If it had been that Zabrak you dated,” She pulled a face, suggesting something far more sinister.</p><p>“Right,” Vanto trailed off awkwardly. The color had slowly begun to fade from his cheeks, and he finally reclined against the back of the booth his posture sagging. “Now you know,” He said. “I never really expected it to come up.”</p><p>“The Empire doesn’t care about sexuality,” Faro said tentatively. “I bet you found it freeing.”</p><p>Vanto’s cheeks pulsed heat again. “No offense, Karyn, but I’d rather not talk about this.” Thrawn catalogued that Faro had entirely sidestepped the issue of interspecies relations entirely, but decided not to touch it. This was a highly personal matter, and one he clearly did not wish to discuss at length.</p><p>“Your credentials,” Thrawn said, circling back. Vanto’s exposition, while important to know in some ways, was not entirely mission critical. “Explain.”</p><p>“Most people around here think I took off instead of going to Myomar,” He said, leaning in. “Or, like I told the Hanshens at the restaurant…”</p><p>“They assume you went to Myomar but never graduated.” Faro crossed her arms, clearly skeptical. “That was a long time ago, though. Are you sure—”</p><p>“I’ve got enough connections to at least get me talking to people.”</p><p>“And your identity will be a non-issue?”</p><p>“My identity is what we’ll use to our advantage,” Eli said, and Thrawn knew with immediate, borderline uncomfortable certainty he was going to learn more about his aide than he ever could have expected.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>See you tonight for the next installment!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Faro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A translation: </p><p>Mofwati—Space Tequila (Derived from Minnisiat. Thank you, Coruscant Translator)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lysatra’s capital city really came to life at night. The sky burned red and pink, then orange, then purple, and finally that unpolluted purple-black that was so very rare to see while planetside. As the heat of the day burned off, more and more people came out from their daytime retreats, the outdoor patios became overpopulated, and the port city became a vibrant thing. There were outdoor markets and food vendors, live music that swelled each time they passed an open set of doors. It felt like a festival.</p><p>Vanto had shrugged and insisted that this was just the way Lysatra was.</p><p>And wasn’t that just something, Faro thought privately. He’d dropped several metaphorical bombs on them earlier, between Nerie, and then the whole ‘it was the academy or I’d never leave this planet again’ thing, and his parents… Her mind was reeling and she wasn’t even all that close with him. Not for the first time, she couldn’t help but think she’d pay more than a few credits for a glimpse into Thrawn’s thoughts on the subject.</p><p>Being the <em>Chimaera’s</em> captain, Karyn Faro had one hell of a glimpse into the dirty, intimate details of officer country. She knew who hadn't kicked their deathstick habit, which analysts were on or off for the umpteenth time, which supply officers were ordering extras for their office stashes. And because she was in good with the bulk of her officers, most of the top tier gossip was old news by the time it became public knowledge.</p><p>Hammerly was a great deal of help in that regard, and she had the right amount of professionalism and wisdom to understand which matters should be left alone and which should be handled before they became potential crises. But for all that, Hammerly had never been able to solve what she had dubbed the greatest question:</p><p>Grand Admiral Thrawn and Commander Eli Vanto: Colleagues, friends, or something more intimate?</p><p>Faro had her own guesses, of course. Thrawn had never given away any indication of interest in anyone beyond the professional. Vanto, obviously she had suspected he was interested in men, but going on their conversation earlier, she suddenly realized that Thrawn and Vanto did not talk about personal things nearly as much as anyone thought. Which—wow. They were nearly always together and Thrawn had had no idea? </p><p>Really, if this were a holo-novel, Faro would have placed her bets on this being a tipping point years in the making. However, this was her CO and his aide of nearly ten years, people she worked in close proximity with, so Faro supposed she'd have to keep her private considerations just that. Private.</p><p>The circumstances that had led to this evening aside, Faro was keen to take in the nightlife. She'd never been on a desert planet that wasn't depressing, and as Vanto and Nerie had called it, tonight was practice. </p><p>News of Vanto's return planetside seemed to travel, and the cantina—the name of the place included the word, and had beautiful, broad-leafed desert trees both out front and on the patio so she felt it was an acceptable assignment—they had posted up in was busy but not crowded, with the occasional person popping in to see if the rumors were true.</p><p>Vanto had his back to the bar, his elbows resting on it, a circle of people around him in the dim lights, the roar of the music making them shout to hear each other. Faro and Thrawn watched on from a safe distance, a half drank ale in front of him as a new drink was set in front of her. Nerie sat down across from her, leaving the admiral cornered in the half-moon shaped booth.</p><p>“Looks like he’s having fun,” Nerie said as the group hollered and a waitress with a round of shots appeared. “Now’s the time to ask me any questions you have,” She added with a loaded glance in Thrawn’s direction. "I know plenty of stories about that boy," She added playfully. </p><p>The admiral blinked at her, his gaze the mostly blank one he turned on political-types and local leaders when he was wool-gathering.</p><p>“I mean, come on,” Nerie laughed, “You knew he was gay,” She said, “But you,” She gave Thrawn a once over. “It really never came up?”</p><p>“I am his commanding officer, Nereida. A gra—”</p><p><em>“Nerie,”</em> She pushed back. “You’re both his commanding officers, and nobody here cares about your rank.” Faro considered protesting but Thrawn shot her a warning glance before refocusing on Vanto’s apparent childhood friend. She was fearless, Faro would give her that. She had no idea who she was talking to.</p><p>The band on the other side of the bar started up some popular tune with a driving beat and catchy electrical riff, and half the group around Vanto dispersed to create an impromptu dance floor. It was interesting. It was like most of the end of the night establishments she'd been to, yet incredibly more intimate and inviting.</p><p>“Alright,” Thrawn said after a moment, motioning for a drink from a passing bartender. Whatever he’d asked for, Faro couldn’t have repeated. How many languages did the man speak?  “I have several questions.”</p><p>“Go ahead,” Nereida beckoned.</p><p>“You work for Rublicki Shipping,” He said, “But you are loyal to the Vantos.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known you’d ask work questions,” She scoffed. “I do. I help them, they make sure I stay safe and out of harm's way when things get heated. The Vantos are well established and sitting on a lot of money. Even Eli would tell you that.”</p><p>“Huh,” Faro said, and Thrawn nudged her under the table. </p><p>“I’m sure he never said anything about it. He was young, bored, and too smart for his own good. It was no wonder he got into trouble, even without his more unique tastes.” Nereida shrugged, looking between them. She smirked at Thrawn. “That wasn’t a question, though. So shoot.”</p><p>Thrawn’s eyes narrowed. “How old was Vanto when he started hauling?”</p><p>“Fifteen.” She said, plucking Thrawn’s drink from the returning server and exchanging some foreign currency for it even as she waved Thrawn’s credits off.</p><p>“How far has he gone on these trips?”</p><p>“Far enough,” She said. “He’s decently familiar with the Unknown Regions, where it and ‘Wild Space,’” She quoted it with a curl of her fingers, “Overlap. There are a few safely travelled lanes, a couple concourses, as I’m sure you know.”</p><p>“I do,” He agreed and drank. “How do you feel about his choices?”</p><p>“What?” She made a weird face. “Why does my opinion matter?”</p><p>“You are the one who knows the most about him, as you have so clearly demonstrated,” Thrawn challenged.</p><p>She laughed, fingers fanning over her face. “Right. <em>I’m</em> the one who knows the most about him.” She gave Thrawn a knowing look before turning her attention toward the expanse of the bar where a man was very clearly in Vanto’s personal space. A Mirialan man with greenish skin who laughed and leaned in to say something. Vanto pulled back and gave him a look that bordered on smoldering. A hand shot out and a human man leaned in and said something, his posture shifting into something similarly interested. Vanto waved them both off and more liquor appeared.</p><p>“Old friends?” Thrawn asked.</p><p>“You’d think it’d been ten hours, not ten years,” Nerie commented ruefully, shaking her head. One of the men pulled Eli in the direction of the dance floor and he went, taking another shot, slapping his glass on the bar behind him with a casual salute to an indulgent bartender and going. “The human is an old friend and he might be your in.”</p><p>“Is he going to seduce them?” Faro asked, before she could help herself. Thrawn startled, as if he’d never even considered that in his aide’s repertoire.</p><p>“Yeah,” Nerie patted Thrawn’s arm. “I’m gonna get you suh’ more <em>mofwati</em>.”</p><p>Faro followed Thrawn's gaze to the dancefloor and the tangle of bodies there, their until now reserved commander caught up in them.  It seemed that any chances of Eli Vanto being the cautious, careful one were off the table. She just hoped Thrawn didn’t do anything stupid—</p><p>Oh, who the hell was she kidding? This was going to be a speederwreck and she had a front-row seat.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Thrawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thrawn was <em>not</em> brooding. </p><p>He leaned against the back of the booth, one arm stretched out across the top of the backrest cushion, a leatherette with its fair share of scuffs, scrapes, and repairs. He had been quiet because there had been nothing to say. Instead, he’d been watching the goings on around them. In the distance, his aide danced amidst a swirling, borderline erotic press of bodies both human and alien, with an array of secondary genders that transcended the Lesser Galaxy’s penchant for recognizing only male or female. Thrawn wondered how exactly such behavior was getting him anything that would further their objective.</p><p>In front of Thrawn was a battlefield of tiny liquor glasses, and at his side, Nerie—as she demanded they call her; not her given name, Nereida— was pushing another small glass in front of him.</p><p>“You ready to try suh' more ’shine?”</p><p>He gave her a heavy look. “I am perfectly fine with the mofwati, thank you,” He informed her.</p><p>“Your loss,” She said, and pushed the Lysatran drink toward Faro, who eyed it distrustfully but threw it back with all the stubbornness of a Corellian. Nereida hollered and inclined her drink to the other woman in a show of respect.</p><p>Thrawn would not rise to that level. He flicked his glowing gaze back toward the dance floor. Someone had their hands inside Vanto’s shirt and his fists clenched against their will. That wasn’t right, he thought. He needed something else to focus on.</p><p>“Fine,” Thrawn said, plucking the shot out of Nerie’s fingers before she could bring it to her lips. The burn was brutal, but it distracted him for a little while, at least.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>“Sir,” Faro spoke sometime later, her lips far too close to his ear, as if her depth perception had been impacted. He wondered how much moonshine Nerie had plied her with. He’d only had the one. By contrast, the mofwati was significantly more smooth and much more appealing. He tilted his head toward her. Her pupils had narrowed considerably, an effect of unavoidable inebriation. “Thrawn. This is ridiculous. I thought he was innocent.”</p><p>Thrawn was <em>not</em> going to dignify such a line of reasoning with a response.</p><p>His flagship's captain did not appear to appreciate that. “Seriously, sir. How many of these ‘old friends’ do you think he’s slept with?”</p><p>"Hey," Vanto cut in, loud over the thrumming beat of whatever raucous tune the band was playing. Faro flinched, but it was clear from his expression that he had not heard a word she had just said. "You two doing okay?"</p><p>His cheeks were flushed with exertion, sweat beading at his temples much like it did during their thrice weekly sessions in the dojo. His shirt was similarly wet, though the open collar of this particular shirt had been spared as sweat dripped from the column of his neck down his sternum. The shirt was open further, Thrawn realized. Was it defective or was this a method of attempted cooling?</p><p>Or worse, had someone pulled it open while he was dancing with them, touching him familiarly—</p><p>"We're good," Faro chimed in brightly. "Having fun?"</p><p>Vanto would have replied, but a man came up behind him, one hand braced at the base of his right deltoid, while the other slid between Vanto's left arm and his body. The newcomer, a human, squeezed possessively at Vanto's hip. Thrawn watched the heat of the man's fingers as the tissue beneath his thin skin flexed.</p><p>Had it been this man? Thrawn wondered. But, didn't Vanto's interests lie with non-humans? Though, it was not impossible nor even improbable that Vanto had indulged in human companionship. Nereida had suggested it was a human partner that had enraged his family, after all…</p><p>"This is Zeke," Vanto introduced, and the man removed the hand he'd placed on Vanto's hip to wave stupidly. Thrawn watched the bloom of now-visible heat through the thin, gauzy material of Vanto's  shirt, the strip of dark skin visible where this other man had nudged it free from being tucked into his fitted trousers. Thrawn's gaze shifted north to meet the man's gaze, ready to judge intent, but Eli spoke, effectively distracting him. "Zeke is going to hook us up with some friends  in Sunred City."</p><p>Zeke took two steps to stand at Vanto's side and looked down at him. "Only because you're a beautiful bastard, Vanto. You sure you don't want," He made a gesture leading with his chin, which had been tilted downward. The man was larger than Vanto, and nearly twenty centimeters taller. But Vanto's shoulders were back, loose and relaxed where Zeke's had been bowed forward all but audibly stating his intent.</p><p>"Sorry," Vanto replied. "You sure you don't mind?"</p><p>"Nah," Zeke sighed. "We had some good times. Least I can do."</p><p>Vanto gave him a thump on the back, then regarded the mess of empty glasses in the table and the clear lack of Nereida. "Let me at least get you a drink to say thank you," He said, turning back to Thrawn and Faro. "Drinks?"</p><p>"Yes," Thrawn said curtly, before Faro could so much as consider the quantity remaining in the glass before her. The word—no, the order had escaped from his lips without much thought. Something dark curled like a predator in his belly. He clenched his fists to stave off any untoward impulse and requested the most expensive liquor on the menu.</p><p>But Vanto only laughed and acknowledged the request, disappearing toward the bar while attracting two more old acquaintances. </p><p>Thrawn and Faro watched his nervous, shy protégé flourish under the spotlight,  all confidence and charisma. He did not allow anything like lament to flavor his tone, so he wondered why she gave him such a commiserating smile in return when he said, "The answer to your earlier question is yes."</p><p>"It's always the shy ones you have to watch, sir," She said, with all the wisdom of a seasoned Corellian, and ordered them both another drink.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>"He's brooding," Nereida spoke, interrupting his thoughts.</p><p>“I am not,” Thrawn informed her, the words loose on his lips, requiring little effort to say.</p><p>“You absolutely are, sir, your fingers are steepled against your chin and everything. That’s literally what you do when you’re brooding.”</p><p>Thrawn turned an incredulous, betrayed look on Faro, but she merely shrugged in reply, sipping at an ale. He did not recall when the transition had occurred. Vanto was across the bar, having come back only briefly to share a shot before disappearing into the crowd once more. </p><p>He withheld the growling hiss that threatened to slip past his lips—that it was even an option at this point meant he was far too inebriated, as did his lack of concern for drinking water in lieu of the mofwati placed innocently before him—and folded his hands on the tabletop. His gaze flitted back toward the bar, where some Pantoran had leaned over Vanto’s back to reach for his drink on the counter. Vanto turned and his eyes glinted in recognition and, perhaps appreciation? Thrawn was unsure. He had already swallowed his drink before he could remind himself that continuing to drink was not an appropriate reaction, nor was having any reaction at all. Why did this bother him? Vanto was free to do as he wanted. He had always been. </p><p>Thrawn did not care about his preferences. He hadn't before, and knowing them now changed nothing.</p><p>He simply did not want others’ hands on his aide like he was some ordinary attainable object. Thrawn wanted—</p><p>Oh, yes, that was it. Thrawn <em>wanted.</em> He wanted to slide his hands beneath that too-thin shirt, wanted to taste the sweat where it collected on Vanto’s chest. Wanted to feel the heat of Eli’s skin, the press of his body against him. Him. No human or non-human, no one else. Eli Vanto was his. He wanted to back Vanto against the bar, to crowd—no, not just to crowd, but to <em>claim</em> him—</p><p>No. That was what he wanted but... Thrawn shook his head and the room tilted, blurred and dim. He crossed his arms and set his jaw, unable to help the dark edge of his feelings. When had this started? It had not been a freefall, a whirlwind. It must have been gradual, sneaking beyond his defenses. That unawareness, that lack of total knowledge of the self made him furious.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Maybe another update later if you're interested?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Faro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I should have probably waited until tomorrow, but this chapter is my favorite. I hope you enjoy it, too.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s a good thing you’ve got me in the dojo three times a week,” Vanto said wryly, wrapping an arm around Thrawn’s waist. The Grand Admiral had his own arm slung around Vanto's shoulders, which looked to be more for decoration than support, considering how much taller Thrawn was. “C’mon, we’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”</p><p>Thrawn said nothing, which, to be fair, was probably for the best. He hadn’t stopped glaring for the last hour, and by the time last call had come, both Faro had given up on getting him to drink water. Her CO did not stumble—yet, which was good, though he leaned very heavily if Eli's huffed breath and grunted encouragements to keep his feet moving were anything to go by.</p><p>She had eventually taken pity on Vanto, offering to help, but he had waved her off with his free hand, right about the time Thrawn sent a feral glare her way, so serious she knew it could only be produced by intoxication.</p><p>"Karyn, I've caught you staggering twice," He said. "You'll hurt more than help."</p><p>"I most certainly am not," She insisted. "She was walking a little sideways, but this was nothing. The cooler night air felt amazing. "When you two go down, I am not helping you."</p><p>And, as if to validate her, it was then that Thrawn attempted to straighten himself out, and instead ended up nearly taking Vanto down with him. "You," Vanto said sternly, tightening his grip and rebalancing the added weight, "Keep your eyes down. The glow-lights ain't your friend, bright eyes. </p><p>There was a strange, reptilian sound, like a hiss or a growl. Faro jolted, but Vanto hadn't, like such sounds were familiar to him.  Thrawn was obviously non-human, but he always conducted himself like he was, and aside from the obvious cultural deficiencies that cropped up on occasion, she knew that the majority of the crew, including herself, didn't even think of him as an alien. He was just their CO. </p><p>Still, the words came out before she could even pretend to filter them. "Sir, I need to know. Did you just growl?"</p><p>Thrawn struggled to a stop, and Vanto, having no choice, halted with him. "I most certainly did not, commander," He said, brows furrowed and the point of his finger a little too off the mark for her to take him seriously. Also, he <em>never</em> pointed. He turned too fast to face the direction they had been going and staggered again, Vanto's free hand coming to the grand admiral's chest and holding him with obvious effort.</p><p>"Okay, sir, " Faro said, making sure to lay into the sarcasm enough for him to know she definitely didn't believe that for an instant.</p><p>"Chiss hiss," Thrawn muttered a moment later, barely audible but terribly serious.</p><p>She couldn't help it; She cackled. Vanto made a tortured sound.</p><p>"If I told you the actual word for it, you would not be able to repeat it," Thrawn said, words a little heavy, like the precursor to slurring or maybe a lack of grip on proficiency. He sounded indignant to say the least. Faro laughed harder, finding his petulant tone hilarious.</p><p>"Thrawn, you can explain back at the room," Vanto said. "Faro, get it together. Let's go."</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>Faro remembered only bits and pieces about making it to their room. She recalled opening the door and closing it behind Vanto and a fading Thrawn. </p><p>She remembered the sound of the shower—a real shower, wasn't this a desert planet?—and sitting on a bed, waiting for… something.</p><p>She woke at some point, head pounding,  to a strip of ultra-dim light and the quietest sound of someone sicking up she had ever heard, so quiet she thought she probably imagined it, except there was a warm, gentle voice instructing, "S'all right, I got it, lay down," Then a weight next to her, and then nothing at all.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>Morning came hard and fast, and with it a headache that felt like someone was drilling for their missing doomium in her skull. She felt something cool against her foot and twitched away from it, eyes opening a crack.</p><p>Her CO was on the bed beside her, face down. What. The. <em>Kriff.</em></p><p>When she actually let her mind spin up proper and drank the very large, blessedly cool glass of water next to her side of the bed, she realized that the admiral's location was probably due to 'fresher proximity more than anything.</p><p>Also, this was definitely not the bed near the balcony she'd chosen for herself the day previous.</p><p>"Karyn Faro," Came a muttered, sleep-thick voice.</p><p>She jerked, then looked over her shoulder at him. She willed herself to whisper, for both their sakes. "Sir?"</p><p>He made an aborted grunt and tipped his head enough to open one eye to a tiny slit. "You snore."</p><p>"You hiss," She pointed out.</p><p>That single, barely-glowing red eye, which seemed even more exotic, near-pupilless in the dark of the room, narrowed dangerously. He exhaled like the strength it took to keep breathing was almost too much to bear and returned his face to the pillow. </p><p>"Do not wake me," He said, muffled again, and drew the blanket up over his head.</p><p>Her bed was too far away. Deciding she had one—definitely woke up in worse places after a night out and two—the damage was done, Faro finished the water set out for her and laid back down.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>Vanto flung aside the curtains and opened the windows, letting in both an extreme amount of light and the sounds of the city below. Thrawn was up in a heartbeat, drawing the curtains with a snarl that made last night's hiss sound almost cuddly.</p><p>"The second you lay down I'm opening them again," Vanto said dryly. He kept his voice down, using the volume he favored to draw Thrawn from his contemplation of artwork without being too disruptive, except there was a durasteel edge to it she could appreciate. Thrawn would be furious, but Vanto would do it.</p><p>He really was a good aide, Faro thought, even if she felt a mild inclination towards murdering him at present. </p><p>"Faro, hit the 'fresher. Now."</p><p>"I'm technically your commanding officer," She growled.</p><p>Thrawn backed her, "Stop ordering Commander Faro around."</p><p>"If she takes the 'fresher, you get at least another ten to wallow in your misery."</p><p>Thrawn waved a hand. It hit Faro in the arm. "Faro," He said, still muffled, but with the edge of command.</p><p>She groaned and pushed herself up. "You are a bastard, Eli Vanto."</p><p>"Yup," He agreed. "Headache tabs and drinking water are on the counter. You're welcome."</p><p>She made a gesture that indicated just how grateful she was and Vanto huffed an amused laugh. The room was not spinning up to meet her when she stood so that was good, but she still felt like someone had hit her with a speeder and left her for dead. She resolved to never, ever, drink Lysatran 'shine again.</p><p>No matter how good it had tasted when she was drunk. Bad idea, Karyn.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Thrawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You will <em>not</em>," Thrawn said, with as much authority as he could muster.</p><p>"Sorry, admiral." Eli replied, not sounding apologetic in the least. The curtain made a skittering <em>kssshkt</em> as it was drawn for a third time.</p><p>The light was unbearable. Thrawn felt his eyes narrowing, his lips drawn back in an unmistakably animalistic sound. Vanto didn't laugh, instead standing directly in front of him, blocking a majority of the daylight from Thrawn's position, sitting at the edge of the bed.</p><p>Something was pressed into his hand. Thrawn jerked his head up and was faced with Vanto's half-bared chest. His skin was warm, Thrawn could feel the subtle edge of heat from the short expanse between them. The smell of soap was light and inoffensive, layered beneath something slightly spicy that should have smelled out of place, but instead smelled pleasant. Vanto didn't wear colognes. Not to any of the galas or gatherings they had been called to.</p><p>Also, he really had a problem with his shirts. None of Thrawn or Faro's attire appeared to be plagued with dysfunctional or, in this case, entirely missing the upper third of their sealing strips.</p><p>"You okay, Thrawn?" He blinked and Eli was crouching down putting them eye to eye. "I thought the situation over dinner would've been enough to discourage you two from the harder stuff but I should have paid more attention to Nerie. She's a terrible influence."</p><p>Thrawn would have, he should have paid more attention to what Vanto was saying,  but his hair was curled a little at the nape, still wet from what must have been a recent shower. A stray drop of water slid teasingly over his clavicle and down Vanto's chest and he was brought back to the night before, all but swaying at the lurch of all those feelings, dark and fierce and no longer half drowned in too-smooth mofwati rushed back in, even stronger now without the liquor's influence.</p><p>"Hey," Vanto said, when Thrawn shoved the double dose of headache relief tabs he'd been given into his mouth, preparing to swallow them dry. He'd moved back, his voice gentle, his eyes smarting with a mix of wry amusement at seeing his superior so debauched and concerned sympathy. "Drink," He prompted, holding a glass of cool, clear water out for Thrawn to sip.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>Faro was making exaggerated and obscene noises that had no business being anywhere, much less a family-style restaurant such as this. "These put any other space waffle to kriffing shame," She said, breathy.</p><p>"Faro," He said, following Vanto's polite reminder not to use ranks where others might hear, "I do not believe—"</p><p>She shoved her fork in front of him. "Just try it." The bite of waffle dripped ominously with some sort of confectionary glaze.</p><p>"He doesn't like sweet," Eli intervened, waving her and her fork back to the vicinity of her own plate. "Not that sweet, at least. " </p><p>Thrawn eyed him warily as he began rearranging the table. </p><p>"Here," His aide offered, pushing his plate forward. "I promise you that this will cure that hangover of yours a hell of a lot faster than those kiro-kiro eggs."</p><p>His gaze narrowed. "The nutritional content is proven—"</p><p>"Trust me," Eli interrupted calmly, already cutting into the remaining poached egg on Thrawn's former plate.</p><p>"I second that,” Came the endorsement to his left. “He’s the local, and these waffles are delicious." Faro peered over at Thrawn’s new meal with interest. "What's on his, Vanto?"</p><p>"Is," The smell of it hit him first, savory and warm. Thrawn dared to take a bite, eyes flashing to his aide as he was assaulted by a familiar taste. "Is this nut paste?"</p><p>"It is! You've had it before?" Vanto looked pleased. "It's better warm, if you ask me."</p><p>He caught Faro eyeing his plate with interest. "What's nut paste? Can I try some?"</p><p>Thrawn probably shouldn't have glared at her. But if his first officer thought he was giving her so much as a crumb, she was not nearly as intelligent as she presented. It had been nearly two decades since he'd had nut paste, and he would not be sharing. Though, perhaps he could agree with her opinion of the waffle. It was pretty damn good. </p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>They spent another night in the city, but instead of a repeat of the previous evening, Vanto took them to the port authority and guild exchange. It was the kind of busy a star destroyer was before a battle, different parties coming and going, negotiating and renegotiating, pushing the limits of time, currency, and labor. Everyone had a purpose, a task.</p><p>He felt their proximity to the Unknown Regions keenly here. There were more aliens—many of which Faro could not identify, based on her wide eyes and the tightness of her upper arms and back—and a far wider variety of goods. He had identified both legal and illegal cargos, imported goods he recognized and even some he’d only heard fellow officers discuss back in the Ascendancy.</p><p>Vanto explained while they walked that they would need to go to the other major city, aptly named Sunred for the color of the distant mountains and sunrises. He had spent the morning in communication with the connection he had established the night before. His gut told him that it might not pan out, but he asserted that he was confident he’d be able to make something work.</p><p>Thrawn believed him. Whatever he was doing, however he was playing this—<em>if</em> he was even playing at all, an alternative he now heavily considered—Thrawn had confidence that he would be able to succeed.</p><p>“How would you do it, sir?” Vanto asked him later, on the tiny balcony afforded to their room, the city nightlife like a rumble of distant thunder in the distance. He had procured two very low-content, very hard to find ales from the tiny refrigeration unit. Apparently he’d had time to do some shopping with his free time, earlier in the day. </p><p>Behind them, Faro was engrossed in something, lounging atop her made bed and near completely silent. Free reading, he suspected, as she very rarely had the time to keep up with her favorite authors.</p><p>Thrawn lifted the ale to his lips, savoring the taste. “I would consult someone who knew more about the subject matter than I did, and use their suggestions.” He leaned back in the unassumingly comfortable chair and watched as lightning streaked across the sky, how the stars flickered red, then back to blue-black, fathomless. </p><p>“Just heat lightnin’,” Vanto said, losing the end of the word to his drawl.</p><p>He gestured with the hand holding his beverage.“So what would you suggest?” Thrawn asked. There was a light wind, the air still warm, but the lack of humidity made it feel far cooler than he expected. He discounted every observation he’d made the night before. Well, almost. “You are the expert I’ve brought.”</p><p>Vanto shook his head. “I say you use your aide to befriend some yet-to-be-identified riff-raff and see who can get you an in.” He was flushed, most likely embarrassed as he reflected upon the precious evening's events. </p><p>Thrawn considered the pathways the conversation could take, and plotted a wider path. “Was this what you thought of when I assigned you the role of Horatio Figg?”</p><p>“Honestly?” Vanto leaned toward the balcony railing, both hands clasped around his drink. He gave Thrawn a wry smile, “I was terrified. Looking back, I probably should have. Not that I would’ve fooled Nightswan, but you get the idea.”</p><p>“Your past is nothing to be ashamed of,” Thrawn said, in the event that Vanto needed someone to say it. He most certainly did not want to know any of the details, but—</p><p>“I know that,” Eli waved him off, a defensive edge to his voice. “It was for the best, really.”</p><p>“You are too big for this place,” Thrawn said. “I can see how your—”</p><p>
Red-faced, Vanto blurted, “Oh, kriff me, sir, please don’t—”</p><p>“<em>Intellect</em>,” Vanto breathed a sigh of relief and Thrawn treated him to a bright, mirth-heavy glance before continuing flatly, “Would lead you to trouble. You could have run the spaceport if you wanted, or even your family’s business, but you needed a challenge.”</p><p>“Can’t run the family business without having a family, and being trapped in one place was not for me, no matter what I may or may not have said about being a supply officer.”</p><p>Yes, it was for the best that he’d been relieved of that particular delusion. “Be that as it may, you wanted to get away.”</p><p>“The writing was on the wall, Thrawn. I would’ve started causing the family more trouble, and—” Thrawn held out his hand, wordlessly demanding silence.</p><p>“It requires no justification, Eli Vanto.” He considered. “Though it certainly explains things.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Our graduation ceremony for one.” More lightning streaked across the sky, bolts that skittered and separated, flickering and fracturing before rejoining once more. No thunder came. </p><p>“Huh.”</p><p>“And my suspicion that you were hiding something when we met.”</p><p>“You—what?”</p><p>Thrawn considered him. “My inclination was a touch more sinister,” He said.</p><p>“You’re kidding me.” Exclaimed Vanto, but Thrawn merely inclined his drink and his head in confirmation. His expression probably trended toward smug, but there was nothing for it.</p><p>“I am not.”</p><p>“I was ready to piss myself because you were sneaking around and blowing up stormtroopers, meanwhile you were thinking I was what? A plant?”</p><p>“Of sorts,” Thrawn allowed. “Perhaps after this I will give you my suspicions in detail.”</p><p>Vanto just shook his head, that tiny, exasperatedly amused expression he tended to share with his datapad when Thrawn did something he found more than a little ridiculous crossing his face in earnest. “I’ll hold you to that,” He said and inclined the neck of his bottle toward Thrawn. Their bottles clinked and they lapsed into a pleasant silence. </p><p>Lightning flickered and split in the sky, great bolts branching off. Some reunited, most didn’t, fading to nothingness. It should have been a peaceful moment. It <em>was</em> a peaceful moment. But Thrawn’s mind was storm-dark, thoughts heavy with deep understanding and even deeper foreboding.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Faro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*jealousy intensifies*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunred City was… red. Very, very red. </p><p>The dust was red. The sun… was not red, but it made her instantly red, to the point that Vanto had bought her a hat with a brim half the size of a TIE's wing. Even the grand admiral appeared displeased by the temperature, he would certainly never complain, but he hadn't denied her when she compared the temperature to the surface of a dying sun or, more aptly, Mustafar.</p><p>Vanto was sweating but he didn't appear terribly bothered, with his mostly undone shirt—a local fashion, it seemed, though mostly restricted to human and human-adjacent species. She had caught Thrawn looking at Vanto's chest twice in as many days, though the commander did not appear to notice. She would be mentioning it to Hammerly after this, that was for certain.</p><p>"You are certain we shouldn't use false names?"</p><p>"I am," Vanto told Thrawn. "I'm keeping it simple. We'll adapt as we go."</p><p>"That's a rather loose plan," Faro spoke up. "If someone recognizes him?" To Thrawn, she added,  "No offense, sir, but—"</p><p>Vanto cut her off "If someone were going to recognize him, they would've already. Around here, the Chiss are little more than a myth."</p><p>Thrawn might have smirked just the tiniest bit at that, while Vanto tried and failed at withholding his grin.</p><p>Speederwreck, she reminded herself for what felt like the thousandth time. That was what this was, she just needed to stay outside the blast radius.</p><p>The night found them at another hole-in-the-wall type place, eclectic and strange, with subtler music that didn't thump and thud, bass that was smooth and didn't make the tables vibrate. It wasn't very crowded, so they sat with their beer, Thrawn very intently cataloging the trophies pinned to the wall, probably appraising them like artwork, when a man approached them.</p><p>Devaronian, Faro recognized, based on the horns protruding from his skull. He was hulkingly large, pinkish-tan and fit, with expressive green eyes.</p><p>"When Zeke said," The man began in the curling, unmistakable accent of his species, broad and a little aggressive,  "That I was to meet some friends of his and show them a good time," He tutted and shoved out both arms as if to ask for an embrace, or draw attention to Vanto, she really couldn't tell. "You son of a mynock, what the hell are you doing back here?</p><p>"Well, fuck me," Eli Vanto swore, and Faro felt her eyes go wide. She cursed worse than the most seasoned war-dogs and even she didn’t reach for the f-word unless she was actually doing the deed. "How the hells are you, Ezmi?"</p><p>Esmi was boisterous and friendly, easygoing and loud. He seemed to know a great many people, and to be capable as a hauler(and even more capable as a smuggler). He had moved some of the doomium, blissfully unaware of his cargo's true origins.</p><p>It was always the stupid ones.</p><p>"You think you could get us in on some of that action?" Vanto asked, voice smooth as he pressed the issue. He had already introduced Thrawn and Faro as his associates. Things seemed to be going smooth.</p><p>"You know they don't tell me much," Esmi said. "I haul, I get paid."</p><p>"Surely you have to go somewhere to get these jobs," Thrawn purred, unaware of his natural tendency to be, well, frightening. </p><p>The Devaronian tensed. "Vanto, I—"</p><p>"C'mon," Eli pressed, patting his shoulder affectionately, "I know the deal, you give me a place, I do the legwork. I'm plenty capable of charming whomever I've gotta to get a job."</p><p>Esmi, while still conflicted, had slowly begun to forward a little, captivated by the tiny grin on Vanto's face, the shift of his weight and the tilt of his hips, his fingers curled through his belt loops.</p><p>"I'm assuming it's a party," Eli said, and his version of a purr was the inverse: if Thrawn's was frost, his was fire, all smooth heat. His eyes flicked up to meet the Devaronian's, the smirk on his lips reflected there, temptingly, "What if I sweeten the pot a little bit?"</p><p>"How so?"</p><p>Vanto leaned in further, and Faro saw the hook catch before he ever made his offer. "I'll offer you a cut if we get the job. Under the table. Nerie still handles my affairs, you know she's good for it. "</p><p>Esmi seemed to think about that, decided he approved and grinned. "You know the way to a man's heart. Twenty percent."</p><p>Vanto sighed. "I'll save you the trouble of shaming yourself. You get fifteen, and maybe I'll get you a drink later," He said, and from the way Esmi's eyes lit up, Faro suspected the drink was either a metaphor or the gateway to something significantly more suggestive. </p><p>The larger man leered. "Fifteen and a drink, Eli. I'll hold you to it, if you know what I mean."</p><p>It wasn't until Vanto had steered Esmi toward the far side of the bar to exchange the details and confirm their agreement with Nerie that Faro turned to Thrawn. The snide remark about how there did not appear to be a man on this planet capable of refusing Eli Vanto was there, poised on her lips. </p><p>It died there, on the tip of her tongue pressed against her lower lip, rendered unimportant by the look on Thrawn's face. It wasn't open. He was always flat where expressions were concerned. The average being, one who didn't spend nearly eight hours a cycle in close proximity to him, might have classified the look to be fleeting discomfort, maybe a mild strain.</p><p>The look of intensity in his gaze, so sharply focused, eyes glowing in the innate dimness of the bar even at midday, was arresting. His jaw worked, teeth clenched. It was that look in the bar from the other night, multiplied, and Thrawn had not so much as touched his drink.</p><p>He hadn't even caught her staring at him, she realized. Her gut immediately knew that for the danger it was, so she resigned herself to doing something about it. Making a point to look away first, she borrowed Nerie's method and kicked him in the shin. <em>Hard.</em></p><p>Hammerly was going to feel so vindicated, if (Faro ever stopped holding the details over her head and) Thrawn didn't blow it for them.  </p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Thrawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"We need to talk," Faro said. Vanto had issued them the task of securing a landspeeder for the evening. "What happened back there—"</p><p>"I was lost in meditation," Thrawn said, the lie bitter, his first officer needing little experience to see through him. He clenched his fists, left to sway casually at his side as his usual stance would surely give away his military background.</p><p>She exhaled, likely simulating their conversation and recognizing it as the lost cause it was. There was nothing to be said. He knew what had happened, as she also did. </p><p>"Right," She eventually said, ducking her head so her wide-brim hat would take the first bit of afternoon sun as she circled the lot, checking what model landspeeder they had for rent at the overpriced portside hub. "Maybe you should talk to him."</p><p>There was nothing to be said. Not to Faro, and certainly not to Vanto. It was not the time. It would be dealt with later, when he could properly analyze the situation from all angles, break it down, and overcome it.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>Thrawn should have talked to him, probably. What he would have said, he had no idea, mostly because he still did not know what he might have told Vanto that could have or would have helped things before they got to this point.</p><p>This point being Thrawn's grip around a Zabrak's wrist, hard enough to bruise, Nereida's teasing voice from the other night in his ears, <em>"If it had been that Zabrak you dated…"</em></p><p>It wasn’t that Zabrak. <em>This</em> Zabrak was their contact, the one capable of getting them the job they needed to track the doonium to its source. The man shifted uncomfortably, expression darkening with outrage. Their mission was going to hell and it had been Thrawn who had caused it.</p><p>"Get your filthy—"</p><p>"Now, now," Vanto interrupted with an amused drawl, both hands unfurling Thrawn's death grip on the Zabrak's arm. The Zabrak took a step back, rubbing at his smarting limb while Thrawn's fingers,  now curled around Eli's hands, still the both of them, were raised to Eli's lips. His brown eyes slid to Thrawn, anger and warning undercut with exasperation, which he laid on thick. He dipped his head and kissed Thrawn's knuckles and his lips burned Thrawn's skin like brand. "We all know who I'm going home with, bright eyes," He said, wry. “’S’no need for any of that.”</p><p>Thrawn schooled his expression, willing himself to remain blank-faced as Eli swung his gaze back to their contact and apologized for Thrawn's misstep like it was typical, saying Thrawn was the kind of man who would allow others to admire but not touch.</p><p>"Why don't you two go get a drink," Eli suggested, jerking his head to the far side of the bar, an empty place just out of earshot. It was not a suggestion at all, his facial heat as bright as the afternoon sun, well hidden by his darker complexion. Faro did him the honor of not saying a single word to anyone except the bartender.</p><p>"Two of the strongest thing you’ve got," She said, throwing some non-Imperial currency on the counter. </p><p>What the bartender produced was heinous, some glowing yellow-green liquid that smelled like it could propel his star destroyer. Faro nudged one of the two tiny glasses his way. She drank, then looked down into the glass with surprise. Not as bad as she expected. </p><p>He tipped the liquor into his mouth and revised his thoughts. She’d done a decent job of concealing her feelings about it. Clearly both his underlings could control themselves, meanwhile he had—</p><p>“Oh, he’s pissed,” Faro murmured toward the bartop, leaning forward as Vanto returned from his dealings. She made sure to hold Thrawn’s gaze. “We should—”</p><p>“We’re leaving,” Vanto said, and his hand was firmer on Thrawn’s wrist than he’d anticipated, frankly because Thrawn hadn’t been anticipating it at all. His thumb and forefingers barely wrapped around Thrawn’s wrist, but the grip was sound and Thrawn let himself be pulled, having to move faster than he usually to keep up with Eli’s furious gait. He didn’t speak as they returned to their speeder, and remained silent on the drive back to their lodgings.</p><p>"I take it that didn't go well," Faro commented, once they had returned to their room, bold but unobtrusive by comparison. </p><p>Thrawn cataloged Vanto's tense posture, the uncomfortable jerkiness of his indicative of simmering anger, and resolved to wait until his aide was no longer both physically and emotionally heated to ask his questions. Faro was more than capable of covering the bulk of the details, though she would do so less directly.</p><p>"No," Eli answered, sitting at the edge of the nearest bed. "It didn't. If I can't control my crew, I can't get us the job." He kept his gaze trained on Faro, as though spending any modicum of his attention on Thrawn would cause him to break under the strain of his volatile emotions. "Thankfully I managed to get him to consider some alternatives. Either I provide him with some high demand product of my own—proof that we can handle a high-stakes deal and have the credits to back the talk, or I risk my neck and prove my skills by swoop-racing. And there’s no guarantee the second option will give us instant access to work."</p><p>Faro's face flickered between concern and disbelief, then settled on mild disgust. "I mean, better than pod racing, I suppose, but a swoop bike is just as much of a death trap."</p><p>"Yeah," Eli said. "Finding what he's after isn't a great option either, but it might be a lead."</p><p>"Oh?" Faro glanced at Thrawn, then stopped when she saw how Vanto's expression must have darkened. The admiral watched Eli from his periphery. With Eli, patience was necessary. And, now that they were on more neutral, even ground, Thrawn could imagine that it was not simply anger cast in Thrawn's direction,  but embarrassment. He had salvaged the situation rather cleverly, but his actions would be a point of great stress. </p><p>"I'm going to go see what I can turn up," He said, running both hands through his hair. Definitely stressed.</p><p>"We should come with you," She told him, the worry of a commander watching a subordinate act recklessly flavoring her tone.</p><p>But Eli's gaze was on Thrawn, heavier than it had been in years. "Unless the admiral has changed his mind, I'm in charge of this operation," He paused, waiting for a contradiction that did not come. "Yeah," He said, a strange quality to his tone, resentment? Disappointment? Thrawn was not entirely sure. "I'll be going,” He informed them, already halfway out the door. “ You two have a good evening."</p><p>His footfalls were measured in the stairwell down to the street, echoing lightly. Thrawn could picture it: Eli willing himself to be composed, but still walking slanted forward, each movement touched by anger. Thrawn had done this. Though he deserved Vanto’s ire, there was nothing that could be done for the past.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Faro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I get the feeling,” Karyn said, trying hard to keep her tone professional, “Vanto did not want us following him.”</p><p>Thrawn’s deadpan look indicated that much had been abundantly clear. And yet. She sighed and resigned herself to following Thrawn (and therefore Vanto) anyway. </p><p>He had spent the first two hours after Vanto left brooding at the small table in their suite, expression hard and somber while he seemed to become more and more restless. Faro was really starting to wonder what in the hells was going on here. If Thrawn was this off-put by a guy putting his hand on Vanto’s chest, what in the hell had he been doing two nights before while his aide had been dancing rather suggestively? (Okay, they were grinding, and it was something she would never be able to wipe from her memory, even with alcohol, ugh.)</p><p>The answer hit her around the time the admiral had decided he’d done enough brooding, changed into something else, and indicated without so much as a word that they were going. Thrawn had watched, and he hadn’t interfered. And he’d hated every minute of it.</p><p>“I’m a little worried,” She tried again, even though Thrawn had ignored her protests, discarding their landspeeder in an alley to continue on foot toward a series of warehouses on the eastern side of the city. “How do you even know where to go? Do you have a tracker on him?”</p><p>Thrawn held up a hand for her to be quiet. She sighed mentally. How had Vanto managed ten years of this without losing his damn mind? Thrawn pulled out a compact datapad and checked something, then tucked it back into the wide pocket on the side of his pants. He then proceeded to slink—there was no other word for it—towards the building at the end of the row.</p><p>Well, she supposed, there was nothing for it. She was already here. Might as well see what Thrawn had gotten them into now.  </p><p>The last building in the row of storage buildings was the same flat brown, sun-baked with flaking paint. It wasn’t until they were practically upon it that she saw that the door had been toggled. It was mostly the same brown inside, so dim that it still looked like the door was closed if one wasn’t paying close attention.</p><p>And inside, there were voices.</p><p>“I really can’t believe you’re doing this,” Said a familiar voice. Faro froze and Thrawn gave her a sharp look, as if to remind her that they were to be perfectly silent.</p><p>“I couldn’t race for shit then,” Vanto answered. “Better to hock the thing and be done with it. I only ever kept it to piss Mir’ja off anyway.”</p><p>“Yes, and now Mir’ja gets to take it off your hands.” The second voice was unmistakably Neirida, and Faro made sure she glared at Thrawn hard enough to get him to look back at her. Those glowing eyes confirmed her suspicions. He had contacted her, and she told him where Vanto was. She, however, wasn't supposed to be here, as far as Faro could tell. She never said anything about leaving the capital.</p><p>Trouble, Faro thought. That woman was trouble, personified. She wondered who Vanto would be more pissed at. </p><p>She also couldn’t help but wonder how Nerie would feel about what had happened earlier. Whose side would she take? Obviously she’d seen something in Thrawn—precisely the same something that had set Thrawn off, earlier. Nerie struck her as the type to act out to get a certain reaction.</p><p>Honestly, now that she thought about it, Nerie would almost certainly side with Thrawn in… whatever tift he was currently having with Vanto. Faro’s personal opinion, the one she hadn't shared with anyone, not even Hammerly, was that all of this—whatever was happening here, between Grand Admiral Thrawn and Commander Eli Vanto—was just buildup. There was as much tension as understanding. Eli Vanto could read Thrawn's posture from fifteen meters out, could figure out even the most obscure of the admiral's plans by the time the admiral explained the first sentence. And if there were numbers involved, forget it. Thrawn didn't even bother, half the time, because Vanto seemed to read his mind and have the data analysis readily available. Really, one didn't even have to squint to read their locked gazes and ability to finish each other's sentences as sexual tension or flirting.</p><p>She wondered if Vanto saw it for what it was, or or they were both really that bad at expressing feelings. </p><p>Oh, kriff it all, who was she kidding? It was abundantly clear that Vanto, despite having the superiority in the emotional and political tact departments, was just as clueless as his superior when it came to matters of the heart. </p><p>A speederwreck, Karyn, She reminded herself. Just stay out of range if you can. </p><p>Knowing these two, it was going to be a pretty explosive clash.</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>She wasn't surprised that Thrawn had managed to sneak them both into the warehouse without detection despite there being very little cover. Vanto told stories on occasion, and Hammerly was a wealth of them. Thrawn was good. It was no wonder Yullaren was constantly trying to recruit him.</p><p>What did surprise her was the Zabrak.</p><p>It was a different Zabrak than the one from earlier who came in on foot. This one was tall and lean, all sinew. He held himself with a graceful, easy confidence, eyes sharp and bright, a deep gray that matched greenish skin. She all but felt Thrawn bristle beside her and made the connection immediately.</p><p>This man did not touch Vanto. He stopped in the doorway and looked at their commander like he was something precious. Like maybe Vanto had cut him loose and he'd never really gotten over it.</p><p>"Hey Mir'ja," Vanto said, beckoning him in. "Thanks for agreeing to meet."</p><p>"Of course," The man said. "I couldn't believe you were back, when Nerie told me. You're doing alright?"</p><p>Vanto nodded. "You?"</p><p>"Better now. I always wondered, you know? I knew your folks were," He breathed, "How you did what you had to to protect me."</p><p>Faro closed her eyes and resisted the urge to bash her head against the wall behind her. This was <em>not </em>a conversation they were meant to be hearing. </p><p>"Yeah." There was something almost morose about Vanto's wistful tone. "Listen," He said. "I figured, after everything—"</p><p>"Yeah," Mir'ja cut in. "I'll take her off your hands." He paused, sizing Vanto up. "Are you in trouble?"</p><p>"No," Said Eli. "Just liquidating my assets."</p><p>Mir'ja looked positively stricken. "You're not planning on coming back."</p><p>Vanto sighed. "Probably not, no."</p><p>"And you're happy?"</p><p>A little wistful, a little strained, he nodded. "Yeah, Mirj, I'm happy."</p><p>"You've got someone?"</p><p>Vanto shrugged, a little helplessly. Faro chanced a look at Thrawn, seeing how his eyes had gone wide, fingers twitching as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing or hearing. That looked like an affirmative to Faro, and if that was how she read it, there was no doubt in her mind that Thrawn had also...</p><p>Mir'ja sighed, sounding disappointed "Well, if it can't be me, I hope they give you what you deserve."</p><p>Vanto didn't comment on it further. There was a transfer of credits and a brief, admittedly emotional hug (she'd taken hold of Thrawn's tunic.  It hadn't been necessary, he was still rooted to the same spot), and then the swoop bike Vanto had been talking with Nereida about was unveiled and revved up. It might have been an hour for the entire transaction, full stop.</p><p>"Want me to lock up?" Nerie offered when it was over. She had made herself inconspicuous in a beat-up lounging chair Faro could only see the bottom of from her position behind storage crates. "I'll meet you, later."</p><p>"Yeah, that would be great, if you don't mind." He tilted his head, seeming to consider something before thinking better of it. "Thanks, Nerie."</p><p>Once he was gone, Nereida cleared her throat to gain their attention and indicated that they should follow her.</p><p>"We left our speeder," Thrawn said, when she guided them toward her own.</p><p>"It's long gone," She informed him. "Eli took it."</p><p>Thrawn's eyes flashed up at her. "He knew?"</p><p>"He said it was pointless to lie to you," Nerie said, her eyes never leaving the road.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Thrawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nereida was a striking woman. She had eyes like a flash of lightning across a much darker face, freckles that dotted her skin slightly lighter than the rest of it, if one were in close enough proximity to see them. Others would call her beautiful, would find her to be attractive and pleasing.</p><p>Objectively, Thrawn could understand such reasoning, even if he had no interest. Intellectually, though, Thrawn found her most intriguing. She had an insatiable curiosity. She wanted to know information, knew how to barter and trade for it rather aptly. And her attention to detail would have done her far better in another profession, though it certainly explained her successes in her current field.</p><p>She parked her speeder in an overnight lot somewhere off the main strip of Sunred's nightlife. They walked through the streets flooded with passers by and people carrying on. Four blocks later, they came to a stop outside a glow-lit establishment with music pouring out of it.</p><p>The music was loud. She led them to the back of the dining room and up an unlit staircase that led to a balcony. The air was cool and the music’s volume had faded into the realm of ambient instead of demanding, though Thrawn could feel the buzz of it through the duracrete roof. </p><p>Faro made a point of looking out at the horizon, streaked with the colors of dusk and the beginning of visible stars. He looked at Nereida who indicated the menu at his elbow. </p><p>“We’re going to be waiting. Eli will need at least another hour.”</p><p>“No moonshine,” His commander told Nerie, sharp and serious.</p><p>Nereida held up her hands. “I would never,” She said with a secretive smile. “Your treatment the other night was a traditional Lysatran welcome. The rest of your time here is yours to drink away however you wish,” She drawled, almost sweetly if not for the glint in her eye.</p><p>Faro rolled her eyes, but it was not with malice or irritation.</p><p>Vanto’s childhood friend did not press a conversation until after their meal had come nearly twenty minutes later. “That contact from earlier,” Her eyes stayed on Thrawn’s, their golden color dark with reserved opinion, “Made a request that nobody in this sector should be able to fulfill.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Yes. He asked for a bottle of Muav Tonto.”</p><p>“Why can’t anyone secure this,” Faro frowned, “I presume it’s alcohol?”</p><p>“Yes,” Nereida said. “Some of the smoothest small-batch libations you can get. The problem,” She continued, leaning in over her plate, elbows rested on the table, “Is that it’s only made by one person, and that person has been dead for two decades. You might be able to buy it, if you know the right people, but the chances of getting something legitimate is impossible unless you’ve got,” Here she paused, doing the math, “At least a hundred and fifty thousand credits. And that’ll only get you about half a bottle.”</p><p>Faro whistled and slapped the table in an expression of what Thrawn knew to be shock and awe.</p><p>He was hardly surprised; In fact, the pieces were slowly rearranging themselves into coherency in his head. “It is a token of status,” He mused aloud. “That’s why Vanto suggested he had a lead.”</p><p>Nereida sighed, “Nobody will come out and say it, but the word is that advertising that you’ve got Mauv Tonto is an immediate in with the brewer’s son.”</p><p>“Kabir Coconino,” Thrawn recalled from his readings into semi-recent Lysatran history. “I have heard of him.”</p><p>“Do I want to know?” Faro asked.</p><p>Thrawn ignored her. “I thought he’d gone into hiding as a young adult, when his father was jailed.”</p><p>Nereida shrugged. “Family legacy has always been  important to the Coconino family. This isn’t the Empire. Wild Space is your average Core Worlder’s frontier,” She nodded to Faro, “No offense.”</p><p>Faro waved her off. “None taken.”</p><p>“What I mean to say is that nobody’s been looking for him. The Republic arrested Tonto’s father before the Clone War.” She looked between them. “Tonto Coconino took the fall for an entire organization of people. They had their hands in everything.”</p><p>“You think that organization still exists?”</p><p>“I think it does,” She said. “I gave Eli my datapad earlier,” She said, folding her hands on the table in front of her. “He did some digging. His theory is that Rublicki Shipping is either a front for, or directly involved with the Coconino family’s dealings, and that his family has had me spying for them because they know.”</p><p>“If they know, why wouldn’t they make a move?” Faro asked, then, “How long have you been—?”</p><p>“Eleven years,” She said. “And that’s something you should ask Eli.”</p><p>“Or something we should ask his parents,” Thrawn summarized. The image in his mind had taken shape. And while he could understand the need for privacy—and the way his parents might behave—Eli should have at least taken Commander Faro with him. This was too personal. Even for someone of Vanto’s character. “Is that where he went?”</p><p>Nereida inclined her head. “It’s too late to go now,” She said. “I suspect he’s probably already on his way back.”</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>The speakeasy was loud, tables roaring with rowdy conversations, and the musical group in the corner only stirring up more chaos as they plucked at strings and bashed the keys of their instruments. Eli Vanto sat with his back to the room, a drink beading with condensation before him, and his head in his hands. </p><p>Thrawn took a seat beside him. He wanted to ask about the speeder bike, wanted to know what it was that Vanto had been planning. He wondered if his aide’s temper had been directed entirely towards Thrawn when he’d left earlier or if he had already begun to put the pieces together. </p><p>Instead, he read the other man’s posture, pushed all of that away and asked the only question that mattered. “It was your mother, wasn’t it?”</p><p>Eli threw several chip-like pieces of currency at the bar and rose to his feet. “It seems I wasn’t the only Vanto hiding things,” He said.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Faro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If any of y'all are in Texas/just generally affected by the winter snowmageddon, take care, okay?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"How is it that even when you kriff things sideways, it always works out for you?"</p><p>Faro winced. She had a track record of mouthing off to superior officers, but that tone was one she'd only ever used when those superiors were off the bridge or out of earshot. She had some decorum, and despite what the top brass thought of her otherwise, she'd always picked fights geared toward advancing the Empire's goals or advocating for her crew.</p><p>No reprimand came. "I…" Thrawn hesitated. "I apologize for earlier. I was not thinking clearly."</p><p>Vanto's eyes narrowed but she saw him mentally set the issue aside. He'd parked their speeder so it backed up to Nereida's in the half-vacant overnight lot. </p><p>That the apology had not been accepted seemed to solidify something for Thrawn. His stance shifted and his expression with it, going cold and guarded. He was an accountable commander, he accepted fault and did not pass it onto others. She had no idea how he handled things as a person. She knew plenty of ugly truths, and that there were ones uglier still. She had long since accepted that the officers who got results were rarely good people. She had started to think that Thrawn might be different.</p><p>When Eli threw open the small cargo hatch on the back end of the landspeeder a moment later, all of those thoughts were forgotten.</p><p>"Muav Tonto," Thrawn said, looking at the two dusty cases marked with a red and purple symbol Faro didn't recognize. He reached out as if to touch it, then stopped.</p><p>"She agreed to talk to you," Eli said, lifting his dark eyes to Thrawn's. Thrawn blinked, glowing eyes gone wide. Faro recognized it as a reserved man's shock. "And only you."</p><p>"She knows that I am—" He stopped himself. Faro wondered what he would have said. That he was her son's commanding officer? That he was one of the grand admirals of the Imperial Navy? Or that Thrawn was invested in Eli personally like Faro had been suspecting?</p><p>"Yes," Vanto said, definitively. </p><p>"Now?"</p><p>Eli nodded. "Nereida—"</p><p>She didn't correct him. "You got it." She patted the wide curve of her speeder's quarter panel from where she sat atop it. "Your father at the house?"</p><p>"He's away on business."</p><p>"That's something, at least. We'll meet up with you after." Her gaze went to Thrawn. "C'mon, big guy, I've been meaning to get you alone, anyway."</p><p>‧͙⁺˚*･༓☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙</p><p>"Vanto—"</p><p>"Not now, Karyn."</p><p>Yes, now, she thought, and threw the weight of rank into her words. "You know what your mother is going to tell Thrawn."</p><p>He made an irritated sound, placing the second crate beside the first just inside their hotel room. She locked up behind him.  "I do."</p><p>She pushed harder. "A briefing would be nice."</p><p>She saw the conflict break across his face, the desire to hold in his personal issues warring with the need to obey a superior officer. Finally, he nodded. </p><p>"You know what this stuff is?" He nudged the nearest crate with the toe of his boot and the bottles inside jangled.</p><p>She did now. "Thrawn recognized the name and the brewer."</p><p>"Well," Vanto said, leaning against the back of the door, his eyes darker than she'd seen since Batonn, with all those lives weighing heavy on him, "She used to be involved with him."</p><p>"Like, in his organization?"</p><p>“Yes, but,” He crossed his arms and looked away.</p><p>She flinched, looking away as she realized just what was being insinuated. “I... see.”</p><p>"Yeah," He said.</p><p>"He must have been twenty years older than her," She replied without thinking it through, and just barely caught herself before she winced. </p><p>She had no idea how old Thrawn was, or what that even meant since he wasn't human, but guessed Thrawn had to be somewhere approaching middle age—going by life experience. Meanwhile, Vanto looked anywhere from five to ten years younger than his three or so decades, especially in uniform. The both of them hid age well. Lucky bastards. </p><p>“Something like that, but she liked him. I could tell it hurt her when I mentioned his name, but she refused to say anything.”</p><p>“But she’ll talk to Thrawn,” Faro stated dubiously.</p><p>“She will,” Eli said with certainty, his expression guarded. “I trust the admiral, even if he doesn’t trust me.”</p><p>“Uh, what?” This time she hadn’t been able to stop the words before she blurted them aloud. “You’re kidding me, right?”</p><p>“You saw what happened earlier,” He leaned his head back, let it thump quietly against the door. “He didn’t think I could handle that guy and I,” He scoffed. “Well, I did what I had to to try and salvage it.”</p><p>“Eli, that is <em>definitely</em> not what happened.”</p><p>“Then what was it?”</p><p>“He was jealous!”</p><p>Vanto flushed. “It’s not like that,” He assured her. “I know I told them that, but he was just—”</p><p>“You didn’t watch him the other night while he drank himself to oblivion. He made you buy those fifty credit shots—which, what the hell, Vanto?—But seriously, he <em>hated</em> watching you so much he got drunk about it. That’s jealousy if I’ve ever seen it. I thought he was going to crush a glass in his hand when he caught you dancing... ”</p><p>His head thunked back again and he groaned, “Ugh, don’t remind me. This whole thing has been kriffing embarrassing. There’s a reason I haven’t come back here since I enlisted. I wasn’t kidding about wanting to go out and see the galaxy, everything else aside.” She leveled a deadpan look at him and he shrugged. “Seriously. I figured I’d go somewhere I could be useful, do my time, collect my pension and see what there was to see towards the Core.”</p><p>“And now?” She’d heard the story from him before. Vanto hadn’t wanted this. Hadn’t wanted to be an aide, a commander aboard an ISD. He’d wanted to be a supply officer, managing a depo or a fleet’s worth of materials and logistics.</p><p>He shrugged. “Like I said. I trust Thrawn. I don’t know what he sees in me—” He silenced her with a dark look that suggested he was not talking about his gross misinterpretation of what happened earlier, but in general. “But I want to find out.”</p><p>He could try and fool himself, but he definitely wasn’t fooling her.</p>
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